Page 20 of The Death Wish

Christ, Matthew, that’s a terrible comparison. That weren’t no happy tale.

Well at least there are no rats about.Silas recognised Georgina’s cheery voice.

Maybe it won’t end well for us neither. Not like we’ve been good little dead people. Should have moved on ages ago, we all know it. Perhaps we deserve it, if this is all a ploy to lure us to our doom.

The Pale Horseman won’t hurt us. His melody is wonderful. And I’ve heard he’s kind.

Those folks that were made teratisms would disagree with that.

And there’s that daemon, remember? Might burn us into the next life.

Hush! Don’t rile the ankou, what the blazes is wrong with you Matthew?

‘I’m not going to hurt anyone. Neither is Pitch,’ Silas scowled. ‘But I would appreciate it if you gave me a moment to think.’

He observed the churchyard.

For all intents and purposes, it was regular. Headstones in mostly straight rows, more so than many others he’d seen, with the usual weight of age causing some to tilt or lean. There were no mausoleums; nothing fancy at all. The church itself was stone, with a tiled, steepled roof and a circular stained-glass window over the dark wood doors. Silas swallowed, shoving his thoughts from where they strayed to the Dullahan. Caught in his glass prison.

Memory of those turbulent events buoyed his resolve, and stirred his ire.

The graveyard washisdomain.

The fate of these ghosts was his responsibility.

He’d not be made anxious by the stillness here. He’d not question his desire to settle his feet into that damp earth.

The heavy scent of the grave ripened, coating his nostrils as he dragged it in.

What do we do, Silas?Claudia’s fear stirred him.‘Should we be afraid?’

‘No. There is nothing to fear here.’ He slipped loose the latch of the gate. ‘We go on.’

CHAPTER SIX

AMBLESIDE’S GRAVEYARDwas quiet, but it was very, very far from empty.

It brimmed with lost souls. Their shadowy, indistinct outlines filled the yard.

They were perched on headstones, clustered on plinths in great groups, lying across the grass where there were not graves available, and huddled on the steps of the small church. He even spied some draped over the branches of the naked-limbed cherry trees, over by what appeared to be a gardener's shed.

And every single one of the souls was fast asleep.

‘Christ, what is this?’ he whispered.

His arrival pushed at the heavy air, like a sea breeze at a sail, and a hum moved through the prone ghosts as their ethereal forms shifted. That strange wave of motion came again, as the souls he guided moved into the graveyard immediately behind him.

There were gasps, soft cries and even a sob. But not a one of them was uttered in any distress.

Rather, they sounded in awe.

Oh Silas…it is beautiful.Claudia gasped.

Is it heaven?

Close enough, my friend, close enough.

A long drawn out sigh came, loud enough that it seemed more than one of the souls was involved in the sound.